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The woods are dark around them. Bucky can barely make out the shapes of Steve and Natalia walking in front of him. They talk in low voices Bucky can’t make out, glancing back at him every couple of minutes with furrowed brows.
Huge black trees loom over them, the tree trunks standing too close together, making Bucky feel like he’s being trapped. If he had to run for it, he would hit too many trees, slowing him down.
He’s sweating through his uniform even though it’s barely forty degrees outside. There are too many straps over his chest and stomach restricting him. The feeling of it makes anxiety join the nausea that’s already swirling in his stomach.
He feels safer with a couple dozen weapons strapped to his body, there will always be something available for him to use. But the new uniform has tighter straps than the one Hydra put him in. It’s hard to breathe with the weight and pressure of it.
“Are you okay?” Nat says as they stop to let Bucky catch up with them. He keeps falling behind, unable to make his achy muscles move as fast as them. They’ve stopped at a clearing, moon shine lighting up the area enough for them to see each other better.
She doesn’t look worried, but Bucky can tell she is by the tone in her voice. It’s a small change, unnoticeable to anyone else. Steve on the other hand, isn’t as good at hiding how he feels. His face is full of worry, his body language tense and unsure.
“Yeah, fine.” Bucky tries to reassure them; hoping can’t see his face clearly. It would require too much effort to school his face into anything resembling comfort.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Steve asks. “Maybe we shouldn’t have-”
“I’m fine. Honestly.” Bucky cuts him off. His issue isn’t going to a suspected Hydra base. He knows his friends worry about it triggering him. But Bucky’s got his hands full with praying he’ll get through this without throwing up, he doesn’t have the energy to care about Hydra.
Even in the dark Bucky can see Steve’s shoulders drop before they start walking again. Bucky loves being on missions. He loves to be on the good side, to help people rather than being the one who hurts them. It gives him a rush unlike any other.
Being able to use everything Hydra taught him to do good is the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could ever give them. He knows that some missions will always be triggering, no matter how well he’s doing, but he doesn’t mind. He comes on the ones he can handle and skips the particularly brutal ones.
Bucky tries to keep up with them, but his legs just won’t move as fast as his brain wants them too. He feels them shake underneath him, using all their strength to hold him up. His whole body is vibrating with the effort of moving.
It makes his stomach feel even more unsettled. Every movement sends waves of nausea rocking through his body. If he could lie down on the ground and stay there until this feeling passed, he’d feel a lot better. But they can’t stop moving.
He woke up with a fever this morning but managed to hide it from Steve all day because he wanted to go on the mission. He didn’t start feeling sick until they were already on the Quinjet on their way here. He figured it was just pre-mission nerves and motion sickness piling on top of each other. The unrelenting nausea makes him doubt the excuses.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asks as they slow down to a stop again. “We could just-” He tries to say, but Bucky cuts him off.
“Steve, honestly. I’m good.” His voice is thin. He’s glad they stopped walking. It gives his stomach a moment to settle. What he doesn’t like is the attention on him. He just needs to get through the mission and then he can go home and be sick all he wants.
“Bucky, we know something’s up.” Nat says softly, as if she’s scared of how he’ll react.
“Told you I’m fine.” Bucky insists, but he doesn’t even convince himself. He jumps back when there’s a cold hand on his forehead. He’s so focused on forcing his stomach to stay in place he didn’t see it coming.
“You’re warm.” Comes Nat’s voice. Bucky sighs, trying to think of a lie to cover it up.
“What hurts?” Steve jumps in before Bucky has the time to talk.
“Give him a moment.” Nat says in Steve’s direction.
“We need to know if he’s ill.” Steve defends himself.
“He’ll tell us, just give him some space.”
“Bucky? Do we need to call of the mission?” Steve asks. Bucky can’t think. He’s too sweaty and nauseous.
“What did I just say Steve?” Nat sounds like she’s getting annoyed.
“To give him space.”
“We both love you Steve, but you know how Bucky gets when he’s sick. He needs space and time to think.”
Bucky tunes them out. He walks over to the nearest tree, leaning against it and taking deep breaths. The fabric covering his throat feels too tight and he claws at it, feeling like it’s strangling him. When the top button pops open, he takes a deep breath of the damp air.
It does nothing to soothe him. He starts to fidget, feeling like the nausea settles like a heavy weight in his throat whenever he stands still.
“Bucky?” Nat’s says softly beside him, trying not to scare him. “How are you feeling?”
She waits patiently for him to gather his thoughts. He feels so much it’s hard to put it into words. He’s too hot, sweating through his gear that is strangling him and pushing on his bloated stomach, sending it into his throat. There’re waves of nausea so strong he knows he’ll lose the fight soon, making him dizzy, and the dark is disorienting.
“Gonna throw up.” Nothing else matters as his mouth waters and chills run through his body. His body is practically vibrating with it.
“You feel sick?”
“Steve.” Bucky says through tight lips. He needs Steve. Nat calls Steve over as Bucky bends at the waist, keeping a hand on the tree trunk for support. He can’t breathe through the lump in his throat.
“I’m here.” Steve’s hands are calming as they touch Bucky. He pushes into Steve’s hands, reaching out to hold Steve’s arm, needing something to ground him.
When he starts retching it’s almost a relief. His body rocks forward with the force of it. Stomach acid burns is throat and splashes sickeningly on the ground. The smell hits his nostrils, making him heave up more disgusting sludge.
“You’re okay.” Steve tries comforting him. Bucky is too busy turning his stomach inside out to acknowledge him.
The next heave makes him loose his balance, his grip slipping from the tree. Just as he thinks he’ll fall face first into his own mess, Steve catches him, holding Bucky up with strong arms.
There isn’t enough time to draw a breath between the retching. Bucky feels like he’ll die on this forest floor, choking on his own vomit.
He keeps dry heaving after his stomach is empty, like his body didn’t get the memo.
“You have to breathe.” Steve gently coaxes him, rubbing his left hand over Bucky’s chest. Ironic how Bucky would forget to breathe when all he wanted a moment ago was to be able to breathe. He forces his body to take deep breaths, gagging on the out breath a few times before it finally completely stops.
“I’ll call Tony.” Nat says and Bucky hears her walk away from them.
“I can still-” Bucky trails off. The only reason he’s still standing is that Steve’s holding him. Judging from how he feels he probably has a high fever, and an ache is beginning to form behind his eyes.
“No, you can’t.” Steve says, pulling Bucky a few feet to the side before sitting him down on the ground.
“But I could-” Bucky tries again, he could if they needed him too. He knows there are people depending on them completing the mission.
“You don’t have to.” Steve says as if he read Bucky’s mind. “We’re going home. Someone else can take care of it.”
Bucky lowers his achy body to the ground, letting himself relax on the damp forest floor. Judging by how sick he feels, he wouldn’t do a great job at completing the mission. Perhaps he should let someone else take on the responsibility.
He blindly reaches out for Steve’s hands, holding them against his face to cool himself off.
“Cold.” He mumbles, feeling like he could fall asleep right here. Steve snorts a laugh.
“You’re so cute.”